If he and Hashirama fought Ryosuke to the death, and both sides ended exhausted, what then? The four Kage could seize that moment to strike Konoha. Madara's concern was real. Hashirama understood, nodding faintly. He could feel it too—Madara had barely two-tenths of his strength left.
Eight-tenths of his power, only enough to cut Ryosuke's stamina in half. The rest was his burden alone. A trace of resolve burned in Hashirama's eyes.
"Dammit… a real war of attrition," Ryosuke muttered to himself, gazing at him.
Facing Hashirama always carried a sting of sorrow. No matter what had passed, they had grown up together—brothers in arms, sharing battles, drinks, and reckless dreams. Ryosuke had survived in this world only because Hashirama stopped the Senju from throwing him away as cannon fodder.
He had courted Hashirama's trust, yes, but it was also true: the man's charisma was undeniable.
Ryosuke had never feared betrayal from him. Which was why today's betrayal cut deepest.
"Let's end this, Ryosuke! To be honest, I want to see the true limits of your strength. Don't even think of flying away in that dragon form. I've already created something new to stop you."
Hashirama's warning was clear—escape was not an option.
Ryosuke smiled faintly. "Tell me, how long have you been preparing for me?"
As they spoke, his aura changed, violent and explosive. Chakra surged from him like a storm, bristling with raw aggression.
So rough… Hashirama thought grimly.
"I don't know how long I've prepared," Hashirama answered, "but I do know this. If the shinobi world falls under your hand, it will be drowned in blood."
"Hahaha! Fool. You'll regret today's choice!"
The air turned razor-sharp. With Madara retreating from the field, all eyes turned to this duel. Every witness held their breath. If Hashirama fell, Konoha might collapse, but the Four Villages… they would surely be slaughtered.
This was the battle that would decide their fate.
Hashirama fell silent, and his aura soared to its peak.
BOOM! Fists and kicks collided, the shockwave splitting the ground.
"So it really is a wheel formation, you and Madara," Ryosuke sneered.
"No choice," came a quiet voice. Tobirama stepped forward, gaze sharp. "Because you're Ryosuke."
With half his stamina already drained, Ryosuke could no longer overpower Hashirama as before. A sudden whip-kick from the Senju sent his massive frame staggering back ten steps.
Hashirama pressed the advantage mercilessly. The duel reached its true climax, and even Madara frowned.
"Ryosuke's still that strong? And Hashirama… has he grown this powerful too?" His pride twisted into dissatisfaction at the sight of his rival suppressing Ryosuke.
When Hashirama unleashed Wood Release, the battlefield shifted again. His Sage body, suffused with natural energy, poured chakra like an endless river.
"Still trying to grind me down?" Ryosuke narrowed his eyes. He had just burned through his strength fighting Madara's firestorm—fighting another wide-scale wood technique was suicide.
"I won't fall for it!"
He cleaved vines and trunks with the Sword of Raijin, snarling in frustration. But each branch he cut sprouted anew, thickening and lunging back at him in an endless tide.
"So damned persistent…"
The ground heaved. The sky filled with roots, trunks, vines, all twisting toward him. He hacked them down, only for more to surge in their place.
The moment came. His limbs bound in a dozen layers of wood, Ryosuke strained—but even his raw might could not tear free. Every time he burst a vine, more closed around him.
"Finally… I've caught you, Ryosuke." Hashirama stood a short distance away, hands joined, channeling natural energy into the forest. His chakra well was bottomless, his will iron.
He believed it: before his strength waned, Ryosuke's stamina would be gone.